


Alone

by marksdolphin



Series: Bond's Coming Home [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, reference to suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5169506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marksdolphin/pseuds/marksdolphin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Q really wants is Bond to come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> "Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym." is the prompt I worked from and it's a line from Salem's Lot by Stephen King

Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym. It pierced Q's chest like it was all he would ever feel again. Like it was all he could ever feel again. Alone. He wasn't in pain of the physical sort, but the emotions within him made him want to cry out in distress, made him want to call for help. He felt his chest tightening and his stomach made a noise of some sort. He was hungry. He hadn't eaten for days. Bond hadn't been home for days. The double-oh agent was supposed to have been home 47 hours and 58 minutes ago. He'd said he'd be home.

Q had, for some reason know not to himself, let Bond go on this mission. It was quite possibly the most dangerous mission in the history of his lifetime and Q let him go. Why had Q let him go? Bond himself had, of course, not expressed any fear towards the situation. He'd given Q a loving kiss previous to leaving their building, he'd said he'd be home soon. He was late. Q tried his earpiece again. "007 are you there?" His voice was weak, he could barely make it out himself. Why had he let Bond remove the tracking device? "007 are you there?" He repeated, desperate. Nobody beyond Q had heard from him, either. It wasn't unusual, on an average mission, for nobody else to hear from him. But not this one. Ever since he and Q had become an "item" so to speak, he'd been back on time from every mission, if not early. He'd been calling back daily to let him know how he was. He hadn't been like this.

Alone.

Q was alone in his house, he was alone in the city, in the country, in the world. He was alone everywhere that Bond wasn't. And as far as he could tell, Bond was nowhere. He made a mental note to give the agent his due - he was very good. There's no way anything could happen to him. No way. Q wanted to believe the words he, himself, spoke over and over again in the silence of the four walls. 

Silence.

That's how it usually was when Bond was around - silent. But not like this. This silence was not welcome, its presence filled the room and every car that went past felt as though the silence placed a dagger through Q's chest. Every car the wasn't Bond. Bond wasn't in the driver's seat, he wasn't even in the passenger seat or the boot. He was nowhere. That was the reality the pierced through his chest and sent him crashing down finally. 

48 hours and 30 minutes.

He took his earpiece out. He pulled his knees to his chest and he cried. He cried like he never had done before and his body felt exhausted, tense, angry, devastated all at the same time. It had to be true. There had been no confirmation yet, but he knew it. He felt it. What was there within his heart every time he was with James Bond wasn't there any more. The butterflies in his stomach had died. Q took in a deep breath, and he screamed. He screamed at the top of his lungs like he'd never screamed before, shattering the silence around him.

That's when he heard it. The knock at the door. They could wait. He didn't care.

They couldn't wait.

Whoever it was had let them self in and now stood silently in front of the crying figure. They stood with a straight back, their hands clasped behind their back, their head bowed.

"Q," it was M. He coughed slightly, clearing his throat and trying to find the right words.

"They found a body. It was him." They were the words that pulled the chair from beneath Q's feet and left him hanging. Took away his breath. Took away any want for life he had left.

They were the words that ended him as he sat alone in his house, alone in the city, alone in the country, alone in the world. Alone everywhere the Bond wasn't.

He was alone.


End file.
